


Transformation

by ChrissyStriped



Series: Don't forget the Light [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Adopted Children, Children, Chronic Pain, Cuiviénen, Eye Gouging, F/M, Falling In Love, Tender Sex, Torture, Utumno, Vaginal Sex, turning elves into orcs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-05 21:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChrissyStriped/pseuds/ChrissyStriped
Summary: Faranwe is captured by the Dark Hunter, torn from his family and changed forever. But even in Utumno there can be love and light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the story of how Sharû's parents met.

“I think we should stay.” Faranwe looked at each of the elves of his clan sitting around the fire. “We have a good life here. Why should we give that up for a long journey and an uncertain future?” “But Aldaron promises safety”, Arasiel answered. Faranwe looked at her gently, she had given birth to their second child, a boy, only two weeks ago and was now very anxious for safety. “And the elves, who travelled to Aman, say it is beautiful and peaceful and full of light. There’s enough to eat for everyone.”

“Do we need another light than the stars?”, Halatir, his brother-in-law, said. “The woods are full of game and there are fish in the lake. I’m with Faranwe, we should stay.” The discussion went on for a while longer but they didn’t come to a decision. Finally they parted, the decision postponed to another day. Arasiel sat down on their bed and gave their boy the breast. He didn’t have a name yet, it was too early. “Are you mad at me?”, Faranwe asked.

“Because you have another opinion than me?” Arasiel shook her head. “It’s just... You know it isn’t as save here as you pretend. Every time you go hunting, I’m afraid that you won’t come back. The Black Hunter is still out there. And think about the winter before last, when there was so much snow that you didn’t find game. What if that happens again? Our children need to eat.”

Faranwe put his arm around her and caressed his son’s head. Their daughter Aiwiel already slept on her bed of leaves and moss. Faranwe looked at her dark hair, the only thing sticking out from under the fur blanket. He sighed. “If you really want to go, Arasiel, I’ll go with you – to the end of the world if I have to. But consider that it is a long journey, there’ll be a lot of dangers on the road.”

Arasiel kissed his cheek. “I don’t want to spend our last evening together with bickering about it. Go hunting tomorrow and when you come back, we’ll decide what to do – together.” Faranwe nodded his approval.

Faranwe ran as fast as his legs could carry him, hoping to lose the one who hunted him in the thick undergrowth. His arms were scratched from worming his way through the brambles. Faranwe was as afraid as never before in his life. Of course he knew the stories about the Black Hunter. Stories to keep children from wandering too far away from the fire, he had thought. He knew no one who had seen the Hunter himself.

There were enough likelier reasons, if one of them didn’t come back. Bears, wolves, even elk could be dangerous for an elf, if you got too close to a female with a young. The Hunter didn’t even try to be quiet, he broke through the bushes, heedless of the noise he was making and gained on him more and more. Faranwe realised that he couldn’t run away from him and his instinct told him that it wouldn’t be of any use to try to hide, the only think that remained was fighting.

He pulled out an arrow, whirled around and shot at the Hunter. The arrow was brushed aside as if it were a midge. _‘You dare to shoot at me?’_, the Hunter’s voice boomed inside his head. He was only a shadow on a huge black horse, when he dismounted he was still so tall that Faranwe had to tilt his head back to look at him. He fell whimpering to his knees when their eyes met and pain exploded inside his head.

No, he mustn’t give up. If he let himself get caught, he would never see his family again. He mustn’t fail them. Arasiel, Aiwiel, the boy who didn’t have a name yet! Faranwe reached for the dagger on his belt. It was a pathetic weapon against such an enemy. The Hunter only laughed, caught his wrist and turned his arm until Faranwe let go of the dagger.

He screamed when the Hunter dislocated his shoulder with a jerk, white agony exploded behind his eyes. “Let this be a lesson to you. You’ll soon call me Master.” “Never”, Faranwe gritted out between clenched teeth. The Hunter’s smile was unsettling. “We’ll see.” A blow to his head made Faranwe collapse.

Faranwe woke from his blackout when he was dumped on the floor. He tried to stand up and whimpered when he tried to move his hurt shoulder. “I have a new plaything for you, Artano”, the Hunter said. Faranwe could see him better now, the room was lighted by torches. He wore black armour made from metal, his long hair lay on his shoulders like a black cloak. His eyes... Faranwe trembled, he couldn’t say what colour they had, every look was pure pain. The one the Hunter had spoke to, turned away from his occupation.

“Unharmed?”, he asked and gave him an appraising look. “Almost.” Faranwe bit back a scream when the stranger gripped his arm. There was a popping sound when the joint slipped back into place. “I like to have them in one piece when I start”, he told the Hunter. Faranwe saw into hard, golden eyes when the foreigner gripped his chin and turned his head. “He’s a promising specimen. I’ll start immediately, aranya.” “Do as you wish, Artano.”

“Remove the body”, Artano ordered and from the shadow between the torched stepped two... beings. Faranwe shrank back. They had the bodies of elves, but their eyes were yellow as those of wolves and their skin was a mottled black-green, like the stone around them. Artano gripped his neck. “Do you think yourself strong, elf?”, he asked with a cruel smile. Faranwe growled at him. “We’ll see how strong you really are.”

Artano pushed him to the table where the not-elves were untying a corpse. Faranwe retched and turned his eyes away, the body was barely recognisable as such. “Look closely, elf.” Artano forced his head around. “He thought himself strong, too, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t take what is necessary to turn you into adequate servants for my King Melkor.”

Faranwe whirled around and tried to stab the stranger’s eyes with his fingers. He was desperate, he had no weapons, but he couldn’t let them do this to him! Artano laughed and caught his arms. He was so much stronger than Faranwe, he wasn’t an elf although he looked like one. Faranwe strained against the grip when he was thrown on the table, the blood of the dead elf seeped through his clothes.

Artano smiled when he closed the shackles around his wrists. “You are a fighter, that’s good. Well, were to start...” Faranwe was sick with fear, he saw that the Maia took pleasure from what he was doing to him. “Ah, I know.” The Maia vanished from his line of sight, Faranwe heard him move behind him. He jerked when Artano’s finger pressed against his eye.

“Don’t move”, the Maia hissed and put his free hand on his forehead to stop Faranwe from turning his head. Faranwe screamed when the pressure increased and his eye popped from its socket. “No, please!”, he begged. What use would he be if he was blind? “Don’t worry. You’ll get a new, a better eye.” Artano held an eyeball in front of his uninjured eye. The iris was yellowish green and Faranwe realised that he would soon look like the not-elves he had seen earlier – if he survived this torture. He screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

Gârsh stretched with a groan. He was always stiff in the morning, his skin felt too tight for his body, the scars itched. He sat up slowly and blinked a few times until he could see clearly, the eyes he had been given didn't always work well. Everywhere around him, his brothers were waking. Soon they would have to report for duty, yet another day of violence lay before him.

Gârsh was glad for every day he didn’t have to leave Angband. He had wept the first time he had been forced to kill an elf. They had put hot iron to his skin and whipped him until he repeated what they told him: “The elves are my enemies, the enemies of my king. I hate them.” The next time he had swallowed his tears, but it tore at his heart. And it wasn’t better to let them live. Either they became slaves or the General turned them into orcs.

Gârsh dressed and put on his leather-armour. He suppressed a scream when he stood up and white pain shot up his back. He was never completely free of pain but today promised to be especially bad. He noticed movement at the entrance and hurried to stand to attention when he saw Sauron. He would skin him if he ever found out that he called him that, even in thought, Gârsh had picked up the name from the slaves.

To his horror, the Maia’s eyes turned on him. “You, come here.” Gârsh hurried over and saluted. “General!” Sauron touched his cheek. “You are one of mine, aren’t you?” He smiled a cruel smile. “I remember you. It looks like I did a good job with you, your children are all very acceptable.” Gârsh fought to banish all feeling from his face and heart. He had had many women. At first, they had forced him – to break him – later he had done it, because it was expected of him. He knew, he couldn’t fight it.

‘You’ll never get my children’, he thought. He tried not to think of his old family, he had to forget them or he wouldn’t survive – and he didn’t deserve them anymore. “It is an honour to be to your service”, he said and tried to mean it. He had come to realise that Maiar had a sixth sense for emotions and had learned to bury his real feelings deep inside him.

“You’ll be of great use. Fetch your things, you are moving.” Gârsh was surprised but he didn’t dare to ask and hastened to his bed to fetch his meagre belongings. His sword, a second shirt, he didn’t own more. When he turned around again, Sauron was gone, only the two orcs who had accompanied him waited for him. They wore good armour, not the patched-up things common soldiers wore. “Come with us. Gârsh, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” “You are lucky, Gârsh. The general found you a woman.” Gârsh stared at him. “What?” The orcs laughed amused. “You seem to father healthy children. The general needs men like you to make our people grow. You’ll get an apartment and a woman.” They had stopped in front of a door, one of the orcs put a key in his hand. “She’s already in there, it should be open. You are on leave for two weeks, report to Ashrag in the forge afterwards. Get comfortable.” The orc winked at him and they left.

Gârsh stared at the door, on the other side waited a foreign woman. He squared his shoulders and opened the door, it wouldn’t do any good to remain out here. She had sat on a chair but stood up now, facing him. “You are the one they chose for me.” Gârsh was enchanted. She was beautiful. Her eyes were yellow, but it were her own eyes, and her dark skin was free of scars because she was born that way, it hadn’t been sewn on like his. She was shorter than him, with a stockier built than that of elves. Gârsh tore his eyes away from her big breasts. The thought of touching them, made heat pool between his legs. And this woman should want him? He was so ugly!

“Looks like it, yes.” He closed the door without taking his eyes off her. “I’m Gârsh.” He tried to smile and was aware that he missed half his teeth. Sauron had tried to insert new ones but it hadn’t kept. She smiled back. “Shai. Pleased to meet you.” She held out her hand and Gârsh shook it. She looked closely at him and Gârsh expected her to turn away in disgust any moment. But she only said: “You are one of the First, aren’t you?” Her hand touched the scar on his neck. “Yes”, Gârsh answered, her fingers were warm on his skin.

“My father was that, too.” She looked a little sad. “And your... your mother?” “Mother is a slave, I’m lucky to look like my father.” She shrugged. “And that’s why we are here now, aren’t we?” Gârsh nodded. “I’m surely not what you would have wished.”

Shai smiled wryly. “At least you didn’t pounce on me. Let’s make the best of this situation.” “Do we have another choice?” Her eyes became worried. “Am I not to your liking?” Gârsh froze. “What do you think? You are... so beautiful.” Her cheeks turned dark. “But you don’t seem to be happy to be here.” “I don’t want to frighten you, we are supposed to live together.” ‘I want you to like me’, he thought but didn’t say. He took her hand and led it to his crotch. Her eyes went wide when she felt his hard cock, he was aroused since he had laid eyes on her and had known that she was for him.

“And you held back for me?” Gârhs shrugged embarrassed. “It’s not my way to pounce on women.” He had done it, after battles, still in a blood frenzy – and had been ashamed of himself afterwards. “Have you experienced it... differently?” Shai nodded, biting her lower lip. So she wasn’t a virgin, Gârsh hadn’t expected her to be, but she looked so young. Gârsh had another thought but he pushed the question aside for later. Shai seemed to think, too, that they had talked long enough, she took his wrist.

“Come, I already looked around, the bed is through there.” She led him to another, smaller room – Gârsh still couldn’t believe that they should have an apartment to themselves after sharing a cave with fifty men for the last years. The bed had a metal frame and a mattress filled with wool, it was covered in furs. Shai opened the clasps of his armour undressing him to his shirt, then she walked back and opened the buttons of her dress.

Gârsh gulped, his mouth was dry. The fabric fell away and bared her to his gaze. She was flawless. The memory of another woman, a woman he had loved dearly, pushed against the wall he had built around his old life, he forced it back. He no longer was the man who had loved that woman, and Shai didn’t deserve that he thought of another while he was with her. He pulled her close and kissed her tenderly. He didn’t know what she had had to live through already, what she expected, but he wouldn’t hurt her.

She was tense, but after a moment she returned the kiss, her hand slipped under his shirt and came to rest on his buttocks. Gârsh moaned when she rubbed herself against his spear. How much he wanted her. “No!”, he said when she tried to undress him completely. He didn’t want her to see him naked, his body was covered in scars and so ugly. Before she could start to ask questions he lifted her up and carried her to the bed.

“Relax”, he said softly, seeing the worry in her eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” He wanted to make it good for her, too. Gârsh lowered his head and started to press kisses to her breasts while kneading them gently. She gasped when he closed his lips around her nipple and sucked, her hand caressed his hairless head.

After a while Gârsh let his hand slide down. Shai moaned when he stroked her clit with a finger. She was wet and spread her legs when Gârsh changed his position. He entered her slowly, keeping himself under control as well as he could. It was hard, so hard, to go slow, but he would keep his promise. Shai smiled at him and pulled his head down for another kiss, meeting his thrusts with her body.

Afterwards they lay beside each other, Gârsh’s hand on Shai’s belly. She smiled at him drowsily. “That was... no one ever treated me like this. It was nice.” Gârsh kissed her cheek. “Why should sex be something only males can like? I know how women are treated here, but I don’t want to be like that.”

Shai snuggled against him. “You are a marvel, Gârsh.” She tucked at his shirt. “May I look at you now?” “I...” He hesitated. “Are you frightened that I could think you ugly?”, Shai asked, her eyes full of understanding. Gârsh nodded, he had a lump in his throat. “No matter what your body looks like, you are beautiful.” Shai looked deeply into his eyes. “The outside doesn’t matter, only the soul.”

She came very close to whisper into his ear: “The general has a flawless body, but he is cruel and depraved. I’d rather die than share the bed with one like him.” Gârsh shuddered. “It’s dangerous to talk like that”, he murmured back. “If someone hears...” “That’s why I’m whispering. You won’t give me away, will you?” Gârsh shook his head. Never, he wouldn’t give her up again. She kissed his ear. “Please, let me look at you, Gârsh. I saw your soul, I won’t run away from your body.”

Gârsh sat up slowly and took the shirt off. He waited with closed eyes for her reaction. He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to see... He winced when Shai’s hand ran down his chest, traced the scars where Sauron had cut him open, again and again, until Gârsh had wished for death. “That must have been awful.” Shai’s voice was husky. “Look at me, Gârsh.” Her face was pale with anger. “I hope, the one who did this to you, will one day suffer as you did.”

Gârsh pressed his hand over her mouth. “Shh!” He was sure that the general had ways to hear even things they said in private. “Please, keep such thoughts to yourself”, he begged. He mustn’t lose her again. Shai nodded, but she still had fire in her eyes. “If you want me to, I will. But I want you to know, that I don’t despise _you _for something that others did to you.” She lowered her head and kissed the scars on his skin. “You are beautiful to me.”

“Thank you”, Gârsh rasped. He wasn’t sure if he could believe her, but he didn’t want to question her words now. “Father never talked to me about what happened to him or who he was before.” Shai bit her lip. “We hardly know each other, but I want you to know that you can tell me, if you want – or not, if it is too painful.” Gârsh caressed her back. “Come here.” He moved around so that it was him who could whisper into her ear now. He was about to tell his biggest secret to an almost stranger, but he trusted her.

“I do remember. We are supposed to have forgotten, who we were. I don’t know if something went wrong in my case or if the others pretend, too. But I’d rather not remember, I try not to. It hurts so much and... I tell myself it was another person who lived the life I remember. I’m an orc, this is my life, my reality, now and everything else is nothing but a beautiful dream.” Shai wordlessly embraced him and Gârsh clung to her. He never wanted to let go of her.

When they woke a while later, Gârsh’s belly was grumbling and he realised that he had no idea where to get food. He was used to being ordered to the meals. “Are you hungry?”, Shai mumbled. “There’s a pantry on the other side of the living room, it’s well stocked.” She grinned at him. “Obviously we are supposed to not leave the bed the next two weeks.” He saw worry under her grin.

“In other words, you are expected to be pregnant soon.” Gârsh kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry... Do you have children?” Shai nodded. “Can you bring us food first, please?” Gârsh nodded and left the bed without bothering to put on his clothes. It was warm here, the fire of the mountains ever-present. He found the pantry without difficulty, it was stocked with dried and salted meat, a few loafs of bread, but there were also a little bag of pears and a wedge of cheese. Gârsh took a few generous slices of cold joint and two of the pears. Fresh fruit was a rarity here, he felt his mouth water.

“You found the pears?” Shai sat upright in bed and slid over so Gârsh and the tray found room. “They are a present from my mother.” Gârsh was surprised. “Where does your mother get fresh fruit from?” “A Maia has cast an eye on her, he sometimes slips her treats.” Shai shrugged. “He’s decent, more so than... the men I was forced to serve.” Gârsh didn’t know what to say. He was very wary of the Maiar, but he knew how orcs could get with women.

“So... you said you have children?” Shai nodded. “A son, he’s four, and a daughter, she’s two. They are with my mother, I didn’t know... how you are.” She seemed embarrassed. “I understand.” She had been afraid that he would hurt her children. “They should live with us, they are your children. And I’ll be their father, if you allow it.” Shai smiled, her eyes filled with tears. “You are wonderful, Gârsh, thank you.” Gârhs kissed her cheek. A family. He'd have a family. What he had done to deserve Shai, was beyond him.


	3. Chapter 3

Gârsh slowly opened the door to the bed room. Shai beamed at him, she looked exhausted but very happy. Gârsh had wanted to stay when she went into labour, but he had had to work and Shai’s mother had made clear that this was women’s matter. “Come in, Gârsh and look at you son.”

“A son?” Gârsh walked over and looked at the bundle Shai was holding. The little boy was sleeping. Gârsh saw with relief that his skin was dark. “Do you want to hold him?” Gârsh sat down on the bed and held his hands out. “Careful, support the head.” He was so small, his son’s head fit easily in his hand. It felt so natural to hold the newborn, he had done it before.

“My son”, he whispered, his gaze misted over. He felt a boundless love for this little, helpless being. “Daddy?” Rusha walked into the room. “Do you want to see your brother, Rusha?” Gârsh sat down on the floor so Rusha had a good view. “What’s his name?”, the boy asked. “We don’t know yet.” Gârsh looked at Shai, she shook her head. Later, it meant. Giving birth was dangerous and exhausting, often mother and child didn’t survive and many children died in the first year. You didn’t choose a name before the child was born, it was bad luck.

“He’s so little”, Rusha said. “When can he play with me?” Gârsh smiled indulgently. “Not that soon.” “Rusha?” Shai’s mother stood in the door, Neshi holding her hand. “Come, we give your parents a little time alone.” She winked at Gârsh.

“Tell us a story, please?”, Rusha asked with shining eyes. “Of course.” Gârsh looked away, he knew that Cenya told elvish stories to the children, but he acted as if he didn’t hear it, he would have had to report it. Shai did tell these stories, too, and he couldn’t look the other way with her, but he couldn’t forbid it. He knew how much she loved these stories.

When they were alone again, Shai said: “I want to give him an elvish name, a secret name to his official one.” Gârsh stared at her. “Are you mad?”, he hissed to not wake the little one. “We can’t give him an elvish name. Rusha and Neshi don’t have one either! Do they?” Maybe she just hadn’t told him yet. He was a little scared suddenly that that was the case. “No”, Shai said and lowered her head. “Mother didn’t allow it, either.”

Gârsh sighed relieved. “See? If even your mother thinks it is better to not do it...” “But the names we have as orcs don’t mean anything. I want to give him a name that gives him strength.” Gârsh laid the child in her arms and sat down beside here. “I understand, but... it’s just not possible. Our life is as it is, we can’t change it. And our child has to be orc, or we won’t have him for long.”

Shai nodded slowly and smiled sadly. Gârsh could see that she was sad, but he couldn’t help her. He already turned a blind eye to her singing and telling tales. “We'll find him a good name for a little orc”, he said gently. "It's better that way. Maybe Sharû?" Shai leaned against him. “You are always so reasonable, Gârsh.” “That’s because I’m a few years older than you.”

Gârsh closed his eyes and pushed the memories back with all his willpower. She made it so hard for him, with her elvish mother and all the songs and tales, but he never told her how much it hurt. He knew that this heritage gave her strength, but it would destroy him if he had to remember.


End file.
